Dear Immortal Tyrant

"Ugh, why are you so heavy?" Lina groaned, catching him before he hit his head on the floor, which would only make him dumber than he already was.

Milo was one dramatic brother. He had placed a hand on his head and rolled his eyes back for more effect.

"Tell me you're joking," Milo wheezed out. He acted like he was on his deathbed and these were his last dying words.

"I wish I was," Lina stated, shoving him off of her body. "Now stand up on your two feet like a big boy."

Milo rolled his eyes and straightened up, adjusting his perfect hair and shirt.

"Do I even want to ask who the husband is?" Milo said, his face scrunching up with disgust.

"It'll be a cold day in hell before I call Everett Leclare my older brother," Milo whispered, bending down to talk to her since she was tiny. He always snickered at her height.

"Good thing that hell is still burning," Lina stated.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Then…" Milo trailed off, blinking in confusion and tilting his head. "Don't tell me, your husband is—"

"Kaden DeHaven," Lina finished.

"Holy shit," Milo muttered under his breath, his eyes trembling at the opportunity laid out before him.

The Yang Clan already had one of the most powerful families merged with them, the Zhao Clan, who owned the financial and hotel sector of the country. And now, a family that was practically a monopoly was joining the Yang Clan.

"You curse too much for a teenager," Lina sighed, shaking her head like a disappointed mother.

Milo rolled his eyes. "Not everyone wants to be a bookworm goody-two-shoes who dresses like a prude."

"I do not—"

"Remember that time in high school when you were invited to a party and you showed up like you were ready for church?" Milo retorted.

Lina's cheeks burned with embarrassment. "That was because they told me it was a dress-up party and I just—"

"It's a dress-up party for skimpy outfits," Milo complained, facepalming. "Whatever, I'm just glad you upped your style after meeting Isabelle."

Lina wryly nodded. She still remembered Isabelle chucking a pillow at her head when she suggested wearing a knee-length dress to the club. That night, they didn't go anywhere. Isabelle had sat her down and lectured her all night long about fashion.

"I'm just so grateful I don't have to fend off a long line of suitors for you," Milo grunted.

Lina rolled her eyes. As if she'd ever gain that much attention from people. She had always tried her hardest to blend into the background. The harder she tried, the harder she stood out.

Isabelle once told her it was because of her presence. An undeniable and unique presence that drew a person's gaze.

Lina didn't understand what Isabelle meant.

"Whatever, just go to bed," Milo stated, averting his gaze from her honest eyes.

If only his sister knew, all of his friends always talked about her. Whether it was her easygoing smile or her soft laughter. Needless to say, his friends were swiftly conquered and swooned. As for the assailant? She was completely oblivious.

"And try to not sleep until the afternoon. You'll need food in your stomach to deal with Uncle tomorrow," Milo warned her, shaking his finger like a parent disciplining his child.

"Yes, Mother," Lina bit out, laughing when he glared at her.

Lina turned on her heel and went into her room, placing the folder on the nightstand. She was exhausted and wanted to sleep, but couldn't. Not without changing.

Lina went to use the bathroom, cleaned her face, and took a nice long bath. She nearly fell asleep in the bath, but managed to pull herself out and sleep.

And for once, Lina didn't have a nightmare. Perhaps it was the food in her stomach or the exhausting day, but she slept like a little lamb.

- - - - -

"Where is she?" A voice roared from downstairs, slamming the front entrance open and shoving aside the butlers and maids that quickly came to greet him.

It was eight in the morning. What did the Chairman of Yang Enterprise mean? Where was who? The butlers and maids exchanged a confused expression.

"We shall bring the Young Madam here, First Young Lord," The head butler stated, his eyes crinkling at the violent behavior of their aloof Chairman. In all the years he had worked for the Yang Clan, he had never seen the First Young Lord behave like this.

"Not her," the chairman seethed.

The head butler's bushy white eyebrows shot up. Who else then? He cleared his throat and straightened up to protect his young employees. They were too terrified to ask the chairman a question, much less disobey his command.

"Are you referring to the Young Miss, First Young Lord?" The head butler patiently asked.

William was too aggravated by this butler to say anything. He pushed through the employees and stormed up the staircase of the Second Mansion. It was Second for a reason. This place was smaller in comparison to the Main Yang Mansion that resembled an enormous castle.

"What is all this noise?" Milo groaned as he tiredly rubbed his eyes, still hugging his pillow. He squinted when he saw a vision of grey slacks storming towards him.

"Oh my god, a ghost!" Milo shrieked, jumping back when he saw his Uncle's furious expression.

"Milo, speak! Where is your sister?" William snapped, grabbing his young nephew by the arms. He ignored the cartoon pajamas and glowered down at him.

"I don't know," Milo groaned. "Probably sleeping until the afternoon like she usually does?"

"Good boy," William stated, shoving a hundred-dollar bill into his nephew's hand.

"Wow, for another bill, I'll even tell you where she plans on buying her tombstone!" Milo chirped, holding up the money and instantly waking up at the scent of freshly printed bills straight from the bank.

Suddenly, Milo came to his senses. He realized exactly why his Uncle was in a rush. Oh no.

Before Milo could even move, he heard doors slamming against the wall, followed by a loud shriek. Milo realized he had just exchanged his sister's life for one hundred dollars.

Grandfather would murder him.

"What are you doing?!" A woman screamed, followed by the sound of pillows hitting the floor.

"Oh my god, I should get Dad," Milo whispered under his breath, frantically walking forward, but then backward, realizing getting their father might be too late.

Not wanting his sister to face a furious man on his own, Milo quickly ran to her room. He knew his Uncle wasn't a violent man, for he wasn't the crazy son in charge of the underworld. Their Second Uncle was. But Milo was frightened that his Uncle might smack a woman out of line.

PAK!

Milo's heart froze. A haunting silence fell over the mansion. Even the maids and butlers held their breath, exchanging horrified glances with each other. The ones that were rushing to Linden and Evelyn's room froze in mid-step.

One question lingered in the air.

Who slapped who?

"You dare lift a hand to your Uncle?!" A voice sharply scolded.

Milo left out a sigh of relief. Meanwhile, the employees were horrified. The Young Miss smacked the Chairman?!